Behind Closed Doors
by celera
Summary: Faramir and Boromir discuss the mystery of their father's activities in the White Tower.


"At last," Boromir said, stepping into the kitchen as if it were a grand banquet hall. "We can finally celebrate."

Faramir gave his brother a puzzled look. "What's the occasion?"

"We're home together. That is rare enough to be an occasion. And there is no one here to disturb us," Boromir smiled, feeling especially fortunate that their father Denethor had chosen a time when all work in the kitchen was finished to isolate himself in the White Tower. He was not worried that the servants would inform Denethor of their whereabouts. But an empty kitchen was the ideal refuge for Boromir and Faramir from the pressures of war. For tonight, they were not princes, or captains charged with protecting Gondor from the ever growing forces of Sauron. For these short hours, they were only brothers.

"Now," he continued while grabbing two goblets from the shelf. "We make today a good day, little brother. I wonder how Father has never found us here."

"It is unusual for people of our stature to enjoy spending extended amounts of time in servants' quarters," Faramir reminded him. He sat down on the simple wooden table, resting his feet on the bench.

"Even so, it is amusing that he has never widened his search to the servant areas for us," Boromir chuckled, walking toward the ale barrels. "Think about how much time he wasted looking through the rest of the palace. We have been tricking him since childhood." He joined his brother at the table, handing him a full goblet. "To staying hidden," he toasted, lifting his cup.

Faramir lifted his goblet in response and the two drank in unison. But he kept the cup close to his mouth after the sip. Despite the dim lighting of the room, Boromir could not help but notice a growing distress in his brother's eyes. "What?"

Faramir looked down into his goblet, and then brought it to his lap. "Have you ever wondered what Father does when he goes to the Tower?" he said gravely, looking back up.

Boromir's eyes widened in confusion. "Why do you ask now? He has always done this."

"Never has he gone more often. There are also whispers from the Citadel guards that he is sometimes there for hours at a time."

"It's reason we're having a good drink now."

"You don't find anything strange about this?"

"Of course I do. But I dare not question him if he leaves us in peace. And you should not either."

"I never said I would," Faramir refuted quickly, as a slight edge crept into his voice.

Boromir sighed when he realized how guarded his brother had become. He put his drink on the table, trying to find a way not to lecture. "The more time he spends up there, the less he has to find fault in you. You know this," he said more gently.

"This sort of behavior cannot possibly be good for him."

"What could we do about it? The high chambers of the tower are so well-guarded that even a man with the greatest stealth cannot slip in. If he does not want help from either of us, I doubt he deserves it. Especially from you."

While Faramir knew he shouldn't have been surprised by Boromir's comments about their father, the shock was still enough to force his jaw open. "You're missing the heart of the matter. He could be neglecting his duties."

Boromir paused to consider his brother's words. It would be not be difficult for him to overpower several orcs with his sword but reaching a stubborn father was another matter. "I don't what to tell you, little brother. I wish I could say otherwise but I cannot give you what I don't have."

"Perhaps we could ask the Tower guards about this tomorrow," Faramir said quietly.

Boromir began to wonder if even the guards knew the entire story behind Denethor's strange behavior. But he no longer wanted to think about an issue that he had little control over. "The time for that will come. There are more urgent matters to think about." He took a surveying glance around the room. "Such as not letting good ale go flat," he said as his eyes circled back to his drink. He raised it for a wordless toast. Tapping their goblets together, the brothers were relieved to know that despite the troubles brewing outside the walls, they could make the next few hours perfect.

* * *

Notes: Takes places sometime before FOTR. Originally written as homework for my creative writing class for the prompt "write something your parents don't know about you." Denethor is spending more of his time with the palantir in the White Tower. But I didn't reveal this until now so that you guys can use your imagination! Plus, it would have ruined the flow of the story if I had an omniscient narrator.


End file.
